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by Echo Chambers
Summary: With her parents divorcing she thought life could only get better. But that was before she was Changed. Only eight years old, she faces the unique struggle of being a werewolf and a minor. Living alone she just keeps looking for a place to fit in.
1. Chapter 1

The warm night air sat heavily in the room. Taking off her socks, the child turned a few pages forward. Trailing a small finger over the ornate capital 'O' she read slowly through the memorized, but complex, words. "Once upon a time," she whispered. "Lived a girl named Cinderella." The large text flowed in short lines around the illustrations. A dirty girl bowed her head in the bottom right corner, scrubbing harshly at a dirty wooden floor, soapy bubbles coating her hands and sloshing from a full bucket.

Her eyes studied the pictures lovingly as they walked through the girl's harsh life and into her fairy-tale ending. But it was the ending scene that she stared at with longing. "And the step-sisters," she read in a quiet whisper. "Were forgiven." Her blue eyes gazed for a long time at that little illustration at the end. Amidst all the chaos - the smiling prince and white stallion - the small Cinderella, dressed still in her rags, hugged her step-sisters and raised them from their knees.

She wanted an ending like that. She wanted her life to be happy and whole. If only a prince could save her family from divorce and take her mother from her drink. A room away she could hear the heavy snores of her mother who'd stumbled up the stairs hours earlier cursing and raging. On the side of the room was her brother's empty bunk bed. She missed his tossing and turning throughout the night. But he'd gone to live with her father until the judge-man decided what to do. She didn't want to live with just her Dad or her Mom. Angry tears were quick to well in her eyes at the thought of what was coming. Running a frustrated hand through her hair she sat up, leaning her back against the wall.

Her shadow was a dark space in the middle of the room. She moved her hand to make a puppet on the carpet. The rabbit wiggled its ears. The coyote gnashed its teeth. But, they didn't distract her mind. She was too old for such things to work. Leaving the book at her feet, she stood. Careful of stubbing her toes on furniture, she walked carefully, but didn't worry about her footsteps. Her mother would be asleep until mid-day. That's how it always was when she drank at the bar and then made more empty bottles at home.

The door creaked as it opened, but the nightlight was reassuring in the dark house. She paced a few familiar steps towards the bathroom - that wasn't where she wanted to go. Turning she took the tight spiral stairs to the kitchen and out the back door. The screen shut with a 'clack' behind her.

Outside the air was just as still. A hot summer made for humid nights, but she was okay in her bare feet and nightgown. The white skirt was fun in the moonlight. Twirling on the prickly grass she danced for a moment and headed for the swing. She had always loved the mountains. Visiting the town Sister's was fun, and she liked her elementary school a lot, but spending the night at Sarah's was never as fun as Sarah spending the night at her place. The rope supports were quiet as she settled onto the faded plastic seat. Her dad had made it for her brother when he was five.

The movement made a warm breeze for her and she grinned as her hair fluttered a bit behind her. Pumping her legs she leaned back and looked for stars through the pine needle branches. Her mom had said she'd show her how to find the North Star that they'd been learning about in history class, but she hadn't remembered to yet. Frowning at the thought, she hopped from the swing. She didn't want to think about her Mom now. She didn't want to be upset.

Past the immediate back yard was an unfenced woods. They had played hide and seek in it many times as well as going camping and hiking and exploring. Her Mom had told her never to go too far alone - but she was sound asleep. And she wasn't going far. She knew she had to be back by sun up, and beside, she only wanted to walk long enough to be really tired. So squinting her way to the right she looked for the bike she thought she'd left by the start of the trail.

She found the bike before she saw it. With a cuss word she scraped her shin on the peddle. After glaring at the shadowed red bike for a moment, she found the trail just two steps away. Padding along the well worn dirt she danced in the splotchy moon light. The light cotton of her dress tickled her legs as it twirled around her. Throwing back her head she closed her eyes - and tripped over a rock. Rubbing her sore hands on her dress she embarrassedly pretended like it hadn't hurt. More carefully though she felt her way down the steep hill and around the twisty bends. Tip-toeing over invisibly berry vines she sought momentary relief on a bank of grass before spotting brighter light up ahead.

At a trot she hurried to the little stream and stuck her wounded feet into it's cold depths. Plopping down along its squishy banks she leaned back on her hands to look at the stars.

A few clouds speckled the otherwise perfectly clear sky. A full moon watched down from above. Splashing her feet in the whispering water she sighed, biting lightly on her lip. "God," she told Him. "I wish - please, just watch over my family. I know other people need more help that we do, and they're starving, and fighting, and really really sick, but if you have the time, I'd really like it if you could help make my Mom and Dad like each other again."

Nothing answered, and she didn't really expect anything to. An owl hooted in the distance, crickets chirped in the background and the water burbled around her feet. She lay back in the quiet and felt her eyes grow heavy. Her breathing slowed, her mind calmed, and finally she drifted off to sleep.

There was no warning when it struck. A shadow of power and fury slammed down into her stomach out of no where. Blades ripped across her torso and she was awakened by her own scream. Feet jerked numbly from the water to kick wildly at the thing. Small hands slammed out to beat it away. Claws were puncturing her skin. Pain was a white-hot presence in the back of her mind, but she was fighting. Struggling like a fish out of water, she slithered out of its clutches. The growling seemed to come from every direction, but its eyes glowed golden in the moonlight.

It was a wolf of some sort. Its huge canines poked blood-covered heads out the sides of it's clenched jaws. Grabbing the first thing she touched, she flung a rock at it. Then another. It snapped its teeth, but backed away a step. Wild eyes glared at her as it crouched to attack once again, but a well placed throw caught it in the eye. Yipping in pain it barked, a low, feral sound that sent goose bumps down her spine. Her whole left side was a mass of pain. Dirt was rubbing into the wounds as she struggled to back away. Her frantic right hand struck upon a stick behind her. She grabbed it just before it leapt.

Soundly she hit it like a baseball, straight across the face. Knotted wood and dry bark stabbed into its eye. It howled in pain staggering off to the side before bounding away. She screamed. "MOM!" she yelled. "MOM! HELP ME!" she yelled, but she knew it was a fruitless effort. Her mom would never wake up in time and the neighbors were almost a mile away. She was alone.

Blood was seeping from her chest in great rivers. Her left arm, too, was bit open, a chuck torn right off no doubt eaten by The Beast. She was sobbing in great, hitching breaths. Each movement sent stabbing pains to her heart so she lay there, defenseless and beaten, on the bank of the creek waiting for someone to find her.

The night was sleepless and it crept by at less than a snails pace. For the first time she watched the moon fall and the first pale fingers of the sun break the horizon and she wondered if it would be her last. A battered sunrise fought away the night in an array of bruised purple and swollen pink clouds and she wondered if she had asked God for too much. Had she been selfish? Or - her mind suddenly jumped - was God listening? Was she the problem in her broken family? Had he sent a demon to eliminate her and, by doing so, fix the problems? As the sun peeked over the tree tops and the birds started to chatter, she craned her head to look at her chest. It wasn't what she had imagined.

In the dark, terror of the night she had thought a hole had been made in her side. She had pictured white bone glistening wetly beside stringy muscle and clumps of fat. She had pictured blood pooling around her limp body and her arm hanging on by a thread. In the light of day she saw that was far from the case. Even the horrible pain she had pictured in the hallucinations of a sleepless night was all a fake. Sure a wide scratch stretched from her navel to her armpit, but the edges were merely a black and blue bruise and the deepest middle was only a long gash a quarter inch deep. It stung a lot to move, but she wasn't immobilized and she was far from dead. And her arm - a thin crevice on the side was all that existed of the huge missing piece she had pictured. Sure, her white night gown was irreparably ripped down the middle and tie-dyed with browning blood, but the actual damage to her person was minimal. If she hurried, her mom would never even know she'd disobeyed and wandered off again. She didn't want to be grounded during Sarah's birthday party.

So, stiffly, she pulled herself to her feet. Swaying for a moment she felt the world spin an lurch around her, but it steadied. Slowly she walked through the now-dodgible berry vines and up the much more navigable hill. Pausing beside her bike, she peered up at the house windows, but there wasn't a single light on. Panting a bit she limped across the back yard and stepped quietly through the door. The linoleum floor felt smooth and cool against her abused feet, and at the stairs she checked for dirt. Nothing but a slight path of dry dust marked her passage. Pulling herself up by the railing, she made it up the stairs and crossed safely into her room. Her overalls and a three-quarter sleeve shirt would hide the damage and a shower would erase the muck from her adventure. Stripping of the destroyed nightgown she stashed it beneath her mattress. She could sneak it to the trashcan later.

It was crazy simple. Her Mom would never know. Still, she sort of wished she would find out. After all, Sarah's mom would be awake by now.


	2. Chapter 2

Blue eyes stared into the mirror with concentration as they directed clumsy hands in the age-old dance that was the braid. Fine blonde hair slipped loosely over itself, tangling cleverly at the bottom. Scowling in frustration, and emotion that was becoming more and more common as her responsibilities continued to grow, she pulled the hair to the front and picked up the comb. It had been almost a whole month since that crazy adventure-gone-bad. All proof of attack had finally vanished, even the scratch mark on her chest. It had stuck around for so long as a thin pink line that she'd been sure it'd scar. That hadn't been the case. She was back in her tee shirts and jeans and moving just as well, if not better than before. The new PE teacher had been running them through some great agility games!

A glance at the clock told her what she'd been trying to avoid. She had five minutes to be at the bus stop. Grabbing the comb and ignoring the toothbrush, she ran into her room to grab her backpack and then hustled down the stairs. Throwing an apple, plastic baggy of cereal, and a few breakfast bars into a paper sac she tossed the lunch in a paper bag and skidded to the front door. Dropping to a knee she shoved on her worn sneakers and struggled into a big sweatshirt. Stepping out the door she said "Bye Mom," and ran down the porch steps. In the master bedroom behind her came the heavy snores she'd gotten so used to. Another day of saying goodbye to no one.

The long gravel road took up another good minute of her time, and it was to her immense relief that the yellow bus was pulling up to the curb instead of turning away as she panted into sight. With flushed cheeks she scrambled up the steps and took her usual seat in the middle, one row behind the fire escape. Her house was somewhere in the middle of the long route that gathered all the hidden children from their isolated forest homes. Leaning against the window she fiddled with the pull strings of her sweatshirt absent mindedly. Not much would happen until she reached school.

She was a third grader and the bus kids weren't her grade. Except for Hannah and Kyle who were best friends and always sat in the front together. Her friends lived in the neighborhood by Sister's Elementary. Sarah and Elizabeth walked to school every day, leaving a good hour after she got up. They all sat at the same table in Mr. Rodney's class though, and as long as they were quiet, he said that it could stay that way. That was easy though, because Elizabeth loved everything about school and Sarah was too shy to cause any trouble. She herself liked to day-dream and doodle.

The bus hissed to a stop at another gravel road and she watched as a short black haired boy was drawn into a quick hug by his mother. The Kindergartner just smiled and hurried up the steps. He sat down in the front, probably by some friends too short to be seen over the tall seats. Her father used to walk her and her brother to the bus. The winding road began to descend after that and fifteen minutes later they were creeping through a school zone at twenty miles an hour, pausing at cross walks and crossing guards. Erin shifted her pack and moved to the edge of her seat expectantly. A jerky stop and opened doors later and Erin was joining the flood into the school.

Parents and children roamed the hallways. Chattering filled her ears with a new volume that came with being in the secondary hallway. Mr. Rodney stood outside his doorway and beamed when he saw her walking his way. "Good Morning Erin!" He called with a smile. He always said good morning and he always asked her how she was. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," she grinned back at him. "How are you?"

"Dandy, just dandy," he replied. "Couldn't be better!" He was wearing a yellow tie and ironed button shirt. On his breast pocket was clipped his teacher ID. He always dressed well. Even his shoes shined. Her father never dressed that well. Her mother used to complain to him about it.

Erin hung her backpack up in the closets and pulled out her binder. At her table Elizabeth was already reading a book. "What are you reading?" Erin asked as she walked over, Sarah jumped as she tossed her binder down across from her.

"The Phantom Toll Booth." She had a pretty bow in her hair and her mom had French Braided it again.

"I like your sweater," Erin told her. It was green and matched her eyes.

"Thank you!" she beamed. "Grandma mailed it for my birthday this weekend!" Behind her, Erin heard Sarah's familiar flip-flopping shoes.

"What ch'all up to?" asked the familiar calm voice of her brunette friend. Setting down beside Erin, she playfully shoved Erin's binder aside to set down her purple backpack. With a snarl, Erin shoved the backpack off the table. Shocked, all three friends stared at each other. Sarah glared at her, hurt and embarrassed. Erin met her with wide eyes.

"I - I'm sorry," she stammered. "I don't know why I did that. Here, I'll move my stuff for you." But Sarah just picked her things up off the floor and ignored her offer, pulling out her own binder with sharp movements that screamed of hurt feelings. Standing Erin made for the door, but the bell rung before she got more than a few steps. Sitting back down she was joined by the rest of the table members and trapped by Mr. Rodney's morning greeting.

Erin didn't listen to a word of Mr. Rodney's Monday overview or the morning announcements. When it came time to the Pledge of Allegiance, Casey had to nudge her to remember stand up. As it was she'd barely gotten a hand over her heart by the time it was over. That hadn't been the first time recently that she'd acted on such violent impulses. Only the night before she'd thrown an empty beer bottle after her mother's staggering footsteps and at lunch she had whacked David's handfor teasingly grabbing her sandwich. A crazy feeling of possessiveness and anger was living all too close to the surface now and it scared her. But as Mr. Rodney entered into a lesson in the textbooks Sarah relaxed, seeming to get over the morning incident. It was Erin that couldn't relax.

The whole day seemed to fly by after that. She was too worried to even doodle along the margins when they were filling out the spelling word sheets, and she was too afraid to relax and enjoy when Mr. Rodney read the next chapter of The Hatchet. In fact, her concentration was so shot that Mr. Rodney pulled her aside after lunch recess to ask what was wrong.

"Is everything alright at home? You seem very distant today," he said after the curious glances of Sarah and Elizabeth had finally disappeared around the door.

"Yeah, sort of," she said, realizing it was the perfect excuse and half-truth. "I guess I just didn't get enough sleep last night. I'll try to be more focused." He nodded, his face concerned. Then he let her off and out the door to the playground where her friends were waiting for her.

"What was that about?" asked Elizabeth, too blunt for comfort.

"Nothing big, just homework stuff," she lied, but it tasted sour on her tongue. They let her off though and spent the rest of the half hour playing Lava Tag on the play structure. Erin wished she could just go home.

Home wasn't any better though. A loud bus ride grated on her fried nerves and the long gravel road hardly cooled them. Indeed, her temper seemed to be worsening by the hour. Kicking her shoes off at the front door she shed her backpack at the base of the stairs and her sweatshirt in the living room. Lying on the linoleum she colored on a note pad. When the marker bled through the next three pages she nearly tore the whole thing up in frustration. Settling for slamming the marker into the far wall, Erin stormed out to the swing in hopes of relaxing a bit. By the time her mom's truck tires crunched down the drive she was no more relaxed than a rabid squirrel.

Inside she heard her mother calling for her - at least she seemed sober. Jumping from the swing Erin stalked inside, shutting the door with a bang. Her mother scowled. "Help me make dinner," she said though, instead of the reprimand her body language was wanting. The order grated on Erin's nerves. With twin glares, mother and daughter set about pulling out the pots, cans, and packages necessary for the meat-sauce spaghetti they normally made on Monday nights. Waiting for the water to boil, her mother found the dent in the wall and smashed green pen.

"Please explain this," she growled out. Erin stomped from the room.

An hour, one dinner, and two washed pots later her Mom had had enough. "Damn it Erin, just go to your room!" And Erin reached her breaking point.

It was like the last dry spaghetti noodle had finally been snapped. A hot, blind rage stormed through her body in zero seconds flat. A snarl roared from her throat even as incredible pain dug into her every joint. How dare she command her?! The Beast inside her raged. Bones were cracking and snapping inside her and she cried. Her mother was frozen, one hand moving towards her to comfort, the other moving back to reach the door handle. Erin's gold eyes snapped onto her mothers blue ones, glaring even as she screamed in pain.

Her whole body was changing. Rebuilding its self with new bones and new senses. Her skin was ripping to shreds; her wiry muscles and bones standing bare to the elements for a full minute as new fur slowly began to sprout. Her mother stared at her in horror. Moving slowly backwards, she reached for the door handle as the Change began to end. A snarling wolf was standing before her, grey coated and white-collared it's amber eyes snapped at her with bestial fury that threatened to hold her in her tracks. The wolf gnashed its jaws, and her mother fled.

Through the kitchen and out the front door the wolf scrambled after it's prey. Her mother jumped into the car, jamming in the keys and throwing it into life as the wolf slammed its shoulder against the driver's door. It growled and snarled, howling at the moon that had just begun to rise. Spinning out as she hurried away in reverse, the window suddenly rolled down. The wolf lunged forward. Something silver was stuck out the window.

The pistol went off with a CRACK! sending gravel flying as it hit just inches to her left. Blood rose to the surface where gravel had split open her delicate new skin. Yelping, the wolf turned on its heel and fled. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The pistol shot at her retreating back, bullets skittering off rocks and trees beside her. Crashing through the undergrowth, the wolf ran without looking back.

**Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed my first chapter! It's been so encouraging to hear directly from readers! Thanks!!**

**~Echo**


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